


Pardon me, I owe you nothing

by FeoplePeel



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Gen, Miranda Lives, Season 2 AU, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 06:20:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11225121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeoplePeel/pseuds/FeoplePeel
Summary: Based on a post bylesbianjackrackhampeter ashe: oh weird seeing you, Miranda and your boy toy turned pirate, by the way, did I tell you I saved your husbands life and he’s like a day awaymiranda: whatjames: what





	Pardon me, I owe you nothing

**Author's Note:**

> Peter also spied on them for The Worst (Lord Hamilton) and profited off of his friends misery so he should have way more incentive to make up for being The Second Worst. THEY JUST SAVED HIS DAUGHTER. I can't believe the first thing I wrote for this fandom is from the perspective of Peter Ashe, what an _odd choice_.

Peter makes his way from the drawing room to the quarters he had assigned Miranda and whoever it was his old friend had become in the time between London and now. Were his thoughts less occupied, he would undoubtedly focus on one or the other; James McGraw or his enemy of a different nature, Captain Flint.

As it was his mind brings him back, again and again, to Abigail’s face. Since the letter he had been so sure he would see its brightness dulled under the hand of Charles Vane and the filth of Nassau. But they had brought her home, safe and whole. _They_ had protected her where he had…

He raps his knuckles twice, and waits for their muttering to cease. Eventually a louder beckoning comes from within.

“Peter,” Miranda starts to stand, stops at the sight of Peter’s raised hand.

“I wanted to thank you, again,” Peter stays just inside the closed door. It feels less claustrophobic than he had assumed, but he has the upper hand. “Abigail claims that her time on Nassau could have been infinitely worse, that others were not unkind to her, but I am not sure how much is said to spare me. She has been raised kind.”

“Abigail has been raised with fortitude, as well,” Miranda says with so much gentleness it stings. “She is a surprising young woman.”

“Nevertheless, there are no houses for the sick of mind here,” he sees the blow land on each of their faces. “And I would be loathe to send her to Savannah.”

Miranda has been away from society, but she still recognises the conversational ball being lobbed in her direction. “What is in Savannah?”

He tells them of the plantation, its architecture, the sprawling, beautiful grounds, and most importantly its workers. They are quiet for so long, Peter thinks he has lost them in the telling. But James' slow expression of shock cannot be mistaken for anything but understanding. Miranda’s glossy eyes cannot be excused simply by the lateness of the hour.

“I, too, thought Thomas had perished,” Peter continues when they say nothing. It is...very important that they, especially the more violent of them, do not divine the reality of things. “When I learned the truth of the matter how I wished to tell you, but you had disappeared.”

Miranda catches on first, she was always brighter in matters of...subtler machinations.

"You had no intention of telling us today,” she takes a deep shuddering breath. “We could have sailed away and Thomas would,” she shakes her head as though physically dislodging the thought. Looking first to James, then Peter she says, “It’s a game, a ruse. Why are you telling us now?”

“I have made many mistakes in my life, but to betray the confidence of those who saved my daughter? I could not live with myself.”

James, by the window, still looks off-kilter. Miranda narrows her eyes at Peter. Her next words, if nothing else she's done thus far prove she's spent her last ten years on Nassau. “I don't believe you.”

“Your husband, Lady Hamilton,” he says in the most assuring tone he can manage, “ _Miranda_ , is in Savannah.”

“ _Why_ are you telling us this?” She stands so quickly that Peter takes a step back. James puts himself together in a moment, as if drawn up by the force of her wrath.

Peter feels his jaw tighten. “You are, as previously suggested, free to join us for dinner and to stay the night.” he tilts his head toward the door. “It would be the estates _preference_ if you left tonight.”

“What about the pardons?” Flint's--no,  _James'_ \--voice is gravely, his stare unrelenting.

Peter straightens, refusing to be cowed. “James, did you really think--”

“If,” James takes a breath that Peter thinks might be a laugh. It isn't a happy sound. “ _If_ Thomas is alive, what are we, such as we are, to do with him? Bring him to Nassau? London?”

Miranda collects herself while James speaks and Peter thinks he's narrowly missed another tongue-lashing. “We need the pardons. More than some...fantasy you've concocted to brush us away from your doorstep.”

“I don't need a fantasy, Lady Hamilton, _such as you are_! Lady _Flint,_ ally to pirates.” Peter is aghast at the nerve. “Your lives are a courtesy, as is my telling you. I owe you nothing!”

It is a lie, one he's perfected in his head that comes out through clenched teeth in a whisper. Quiet descends on the room like a curtain of lead and, lie or not, his words are heard.

Peter looks between the two of them and thinks very carefully before he chooses his next. “ _When_ you find Thomas, as I say, alive, I can't imagine you'll have much of a problem convincing anyone to pardon a whole ocean between the three of you.” 

* * *

They are not at dinner, much to Abigail’s dismay. When Peter wakes it is to find them gone from his house entirely.

It is to find Abigail gone as well.

There is a note in her handwriting that does nothing to quell his rage, mingling it with disappointment, and beneath that-- _always--_ shame.

His daughter is so much braver than he. How can he punish her for this? He would be no better than Lord Hamilton.

 _Father,_  
_I have taken my horse and two others to Savannah for a grand rescue of Lady Hamilton’s husband! It seems he is there, if in dire straits. Will return posthaste should all go to plan._  
_Love,  
_ _AA_


End file.
